A Midwinter Day's Birth: Jareth's Backstory
by Alexandria Keating
Summary: The story of Oberon and Titania is well known. However, lesser known is the fact that a result of Titania being enamored by Bottom was a child. Oberon, infuriated by this foretold powerful, illegitimate child, banishes him to live amongst the Goblins after his birth.
1. Chapter 1: Conflict

**Hello, readers! This will be a biweekly fanfiction. The updates will be on the weeks that 'Return to the Labyrinth' isn't updated. The next planned update for this fanfiction will be Dec. 22. However, if enough people want it, I might update sooner :). But you will get an update no later than the 22nd.**

**Some people might wonder why this isn't in the crossover section since it has so much of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' in it. The reason that it is in soley Labyrinth is because that is what the fanfiction intends to be. After Jareth's birth, the MND characters will become less prevalent, and this story is purely focused on where Jareth comes from and how he became the Jareth we know, not crossing two stories. I see it as more of incorparating an already stated set of events and playing off that. For me, it's kind of like taking a Greek myth and then playing off one of the stories to explain Jareth. **

**I also put the exact dialogue from scenes in MND in the first few chapters. I just put into modern English with some archaic diction so that it's easier to understand for those of you who aren't big on Shakespeare or just don't get it. **

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'Labyrinth'. 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' however is public domain.**

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The early moon light darted through the thick canopy above, adding splashes of bright silver to the dark and mellow forest. Trees older than the oldest human could remember towered, still strong and robust for their ancient age. Their branches reached high above the ground, stretching into the shadows beyond possible sight—the only remnants of the ever-going battle to see who could reach the highest and receive the desired sun's generous, life-giving light. Amongst their limbs various creatures moved. A young doe and her fawn carefully picked their way through the trees roots searching for a night's bed. The soft rustling of feathers preceded the soft moan of an owl as it opened its large wings and swooped from a tree branch. With a gentle _swoosh_, the great bird flapped its wings and glided into the shadows of the forest, hunting for an unlucky mouse who was late on its way home from work. A raccoon slinked out from under the roots of a tree into his domain: a bandit, with his mask in place, ready for his newest prey. He huffed and scratched his paws together eagerly before setting out to find easy leftovers from a careless creature who wouldn't realize its mistake until too late.

A mist began to rise from the ground as the sun's warmth left the earth below, coating everything in a shimmery dew. The mist wandered the floor of the forest and weaved its way through any opening. It glided surreptitiously into the open nests of those bedding down and trailed over their forms with a frail hand sending shivers down spines throughout the forest. A snake slithered through the dead leaves and hesitantly stuck its tongue out tasting the air. Once finding it full of a sweet, refreshing mist, it continued to lap in the taste before being startled off by quick foot falls.

A joyous laugh pierced the stillness of the forest. The trees shook with its mirth and rustled their sleepy leaves in response, protesting the rude disruption. A young boy darted out from under a large archway made from an ancient tree's root. He was clad in a garb made from cloth spun from spider webs and sewn together with vines. He jumped inhumanely high and tumbled onto the ground, landing neatly on his feet, and he let another laugh ring. This laugh was responded by a tinkling giggle high in a tree.

The boy skidded to a stop, sending leaves fluttering off in different directions. He peered into the branches of the tree he was under and spied a delicate face framed by ebony curls hidden amongst the shadows of the leaves. _One of Titania's_, he said to himself with a sly smile. He raised a hand in greeting and yelled up at her, "How now, spirit? Where wander you?"

The girl removed herself from the cover of leaves and unfurled the wings on her back. She flitted down to stand before the boy, pulling leaves off the tree here and there and tossing them to the ground while chanting non-committedly, "Over hill, over dale. Through brush, through brier. Over park, over pale. Through flood, through fire. I do wander everywhere, swifter than the moon's sphere. And I serve the fairy queen to dew her orbs upon the green. The cowslips tall her pensioners bee. In their gold coats spots you see. Those be rubies, fairy favors. In those freckles live their savors. I must go seek some dewdrops for her and hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear."

The boy smirked knowingly at the speech all of Titania's fairies had memorized. He opened his mouth to reply when she said, "Farewell, you lob of idiocy. I'll be gone. Our queen and all our elves come here soon."

The boy clucked his tongue and stuffed his face in hers. "The king is to have his revels here tonight. Take heed, the queen should not come within his sight: for Oberon is holding to his wrath because she has allowed her attendants to take a lovely boy from an Indian king," he said in a low voice.

The fairy, catching on to the temptation the boy dangled in front of her, titled her ear closer to his mouth to better hear his words. The boy, seeing this, smirked and continued in a scandalous voice, "She's never had so sweet a changeling and jealous Oberon will have the child: knight of his train to trace the wild forests. But she withholds the loved boy, crowns him with flowers and makes him all her joy. And now, they never meet in grove or green, by clear fountains or spangled starlight sheen. But they do argue, causing all their elves for fear creep into acorns and hide there." As the boy pulled back he saw a spark in the fairy's bright eyes.

_I know him, _she thought. She raised an eyebrow and stated rather plainly, "Either I am mistaken by your appearance or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite called Robin Goodfellow. Are you not he that frightens the maidens of the village, you skim the top of their milk, destroy the mills and frustrate the housewife as you prevent her milk from becoming butter, mislead night travelers while laughing at the harm that befalls them?" Her voice began to rise in pitch with each atrocious action to only be egged on further into hysteria by the boy's smirk. She pointed a finger in his face, "Those that call you Hobgoblin and sweet Puck, you do their work, and they have good luck. Are you not he?" She bit out accusingly.

The boy smiled and pushed her accusing finger from his face. He laughed and declared to the canopy above, "You speak right!" His face suddenly shot towards her. He stopped with his nose brushing against hers, his eyes looking deeply into hers, "I am that merry wanderer of the night," he said sweetly before disappearing.

The fairy let out a small gasp as she felt his breathe on the back of her neck, "I jest to Oberon and make him smile when I beguile a well-fed stallion as I neigh in the likeness of a young filly." The fairy felt the corners of her mouth turn up as he neighed into her ear but quickly set her face straight again once she realized what she was doing.

His breath disappeared from her neck allowing the cool night air to rush against the bare skin sending a shiver through her. She hastily looked around for him. She heard his voice echo from the tops off the trees. "And sometimes I lurk in a gossiper's glass," his voice began to get closer until a bright red apple dropped onto a nest of leaves at her feet and emanated his voice, "in the very likeness of an apple. And when she drinks—against her lips I bob," the boy declared as he jumped forth from the apple and playful touched his lips to hers before running away laughing and shouting to the forest, "and over her withered neck pours the ale."

Robin turned around to face her once again. His face was dark and serious as he stated, "The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale, sometimes mistakes me for a three-legged stool." He slowly moved down into a crouch, bending low at the knees and placing his hands on the ground between his legs, resulting in a very animalistic look, before rushing at her. He moved swiftly and deftly as he rammed through her legs and knocked her off her feet. He continued with a laugh in his gay voice, "Then slip I from her bum and down she tumbles."

The fairy let out a small, "Ow," as she rubbed her bum.

"She cries," Robin continued incorporating her interruption without the slighest pause, "and falls into a fit. And then the whole gathering holds their hips and laugh, and enjoy their mirth and wheeze and swear." Robin proceeded to wrap his arms around himself and falls to the ground in a fit of laughter as he haltingly continues through laughs, "A merrier hour was never wasted there!"

The fairy stood up and dusted herself off. She glared at Robin's form rolling on the ground in mirth.

Suddenly, Robin's laughter seized, his lips still parted with an unshed laugh perched on the edges before realizing it was too late and receded back into his chest. He quickly shut his mouth and jumped to his feet. He turned his eyes to the distant forest behind him before setting his eyes back on the fairy. "Move, fairy!" he hissed. "Here comes Oberon."

The fairy's ears perked and she glanced over her shoulder and stated, "And here comes my mistress." She turned on her heels and ran away declaring, "I wish he were gone!"

Robin turned from the retreating form of the fairy and faced the direction he felt Oberon coming from with a low bow. He sensed his approaching presence before he heard the footfalls. Robin felt a hand lightly touch his shoulders, and he looked up into the dark eyes of Oberon.

Oberon gave him a brief nod, and Robin straightened and made his way to Oberon's right in front of the other attendants he had. Robin felt his chest swell with pride as he stood in front of his fellows. Out of them all, he was chosen for this position.

Robin shook these thoughts from his head and turned his eyes towards the direction Oberon was looking. There he spied Titania emerging from the forest by the tree across from them followed by her fairy attendants. The fairy Robin had just spoken to flanking her right.

As Oberon and Titania laid eyes on the other, the forest fell silent. Not a comfortable silence, but a hesitant, scared and awaiting silence. The whole of the forest held its breath waiting and fearing the confrontation that would soon happen.

Oberon's deep and gruff commanding voice boomed throughout the forest sending shivers through it, "Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania."


	2. Chapter 2: Confrontation

**Hello, dear readers! Here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think! I can't improve without feedback.**

**The next scheduled update for this story is January 5th. ****I know that is a ways away and that it is now Christmas break, but my plan is to work on this and my other story through break and hopefully get enough done so that I can get you quicker, well-written updates next year. It also gives my beta time to read through my chapters for this story and critique!**

**And on that note, a HUGE thanks goes out to my beta, PeaceLightVictory! Without whom, this chapter would not have reached its potential.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'Labyrinth'. 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' however is public domain.**

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Titania's laugh chimed through the forest bringing momentary relax to the creatures residing there. She quirked her eyebrow at Oberon and tossed her long, pin straight, over her shoulder.

"What? Jealous, Oberon!" She turned to look over her shoulder and waved her hand in causal dismissal. She said playfully and bitingly, "Fairies, leave here. I have forsworn his bed and company."

Her antics had their proper effect on Oberon as his face blossomed dark red. He lashed out, "A moment, you rash woman! Am I not your husband?"

Titania smiled sweetly. Her words laced with venom, she stated, "Then I am your wife, and so entitled a faithful husband. But I know when you have snuck away from this land and in the form of a shepherd, sit all day and play the pipes, reciting love poems to a woman who has caught your fancy."

She stared at Oberon with cruel eyes as she deliberately stalked towards him, her voice low and threatening, "Why are you here, leaving the far off India?"

Oberon's jaw loosened to allow him reply, but Titania quickly cut him off, her hand flying up in a quick, harsh motion. He observed her command, and clenched his jaw shut once again and awaited her next words.

She brought her hand to her chin and paused a moment, tilting her head to allow her flaxen hair to spill over her shoulders: the epitome of deep thought. Suddenly she snapped her fingers and clapped her hands together. She turned her blazing blue eyes back to Oberon and continued her biting attack, "Oh yes, the brute Amazon, your booted mistress, your warrior love, is to be wedded to Theseus, and you come to give their marriage joy and prosperity."

Oberon stormed up to Titania. He quickly closed the space between them, and staring into her eyes with harshness that matched hers, he demanded, "And how can you shamelessly speak of my relations with Hippolyta knowing I know of your love for Theseus? Did you not lead him through the glimmering night from Perigenia whom he ravished? And did you not have him break his faith with Aegle through relations with Ariadane and Antiopa?"

Titania's small hand lashed out for Oberon and left a blistering pain blooming on his cheek. "These are lies of jealousy!" she asserted. "And never, since the beginning of midsummer have my fairies and I met on hill, in dale, forest or mead—"

Oberon opened his mouth to retort—anger dancing in his eyes—but her hand made another firm lash at his mouth, shutting it for another few moments.

"Or in the beached margins of the sea," she continued, set on getting her point across, "to dance our rings to the whistling wind without your—attendants—,"she spat out, "disturbing our events."

Robin and his fellows let out several low snickers earning themselves a harsh glare from Titania. They quickly shut their mouths. Though Oberon was their master and sovereign, they knew not to cross her unless it was unavoidable.

Titania turned back to Oberon, anger and desperation cloaking her voice as she continued in a low voice, "Because of this, the winds have had their revenge. They have taken from the seas a contagious fog and spread over the lands, making the rivers so proud and full that they overspill their banks. The ox's burden under the yoke, the farmer's sweat and work all in vain because the green corn as rotted before being fit to harvest. Sheep's pens are empty, and the crows' bellies are filled with the infected sheep. The fields are filled with mud, and the quaint mazes that used to be in the green grass are now undistinguishable from lack of tread."

Oberon raised an eyebrow, silently asking the purpose to her rant.

"The humans live through winter though they are not blest by the hymns and carols. Therefore the moon—governess of floods—pales in anger and fills the air with spreading diseases, and through these actions we see the seasons alter."

A wind suddenly wiped through the trees; harsh and biting like winter as if to prove Titania's statement. It shoved its way between all present and nipped at their heels and noses before harshly brushing past, leaving their skin raw and sore.

Titania raised an eyebrow at Oberon. He simply cocked his head and glared—still unsatisfied. She pursed her lips tightly together until they turned white. She turned on her heel and began to walk away from Oberon. The man's body relaxed as he welcomed an apparent victory. Robin and his fellows smiled good naturedly. Robin looked across the forest and saw Titania's fairies not in a state of defeat but in one of expectance.

His gleefully smile paused on his face and slowly receded. His eyes flitted to those around him. They were completely oblivious to the arising circumstance. Robin planted his feet firmly on the ground and motioned to the others around him to do so as well. They quickly followed suit and waited, watching Titania's retreating form.

Suddenly, Titania straightened herself, and turned back to face Oberon—her hair flowing, her eyes storming, her face hardening, and her power surging through her. Oberon's eyes widened before he threw his hands to his ears as Titania proclaimed, her voice laced with the power that surged through her veins: "The harsh frost covers the fresh red rose; the icy winter wears a crown of sweet scented summer buds in a form of mockery! Spring, summer, fertile autumn and angry winter change their places, leaving the world confused and not knowing which is which. And this offspring of evils comes from our arguments, our dissension. We are the parents of these events!"

The air around Titania darkened. The light was immediately swept from anything within an arm's reach of her. The woman stood in the center of an abyss swirling and spinning with her anger and pain. The entire forest thrust into a silence, partially in reverence, but mainly in fear.

Oberon straightened himself, adjusted his clothes and waited impatiently, as if dealing with a petulant child in the midst of a tantrum. He stood proud and defiant, looking down on Titania's rigid form.

Slowly but surely, Titania calmed herself. She returned to a mellowed state and light began to seep back into the air around her, but the hair on her hackles remained raised.

Oberon arched an eyebrow in inquiry for permission to reply, and Titania responded with a slight dip of her head.

Oberon clasped his hands behind his back and stalked towards Titania. Slowly, he prowled around her and whispered in her ear, "Amend it then, the power lies within you. Why should Titania cross her Oberon? I only beg a little changeling boy to be my henchman."

Titania whipped her head around to face Oberon, her bright eyes meeting his dark ones without hesitation. "Set you heart at rest," she said bitingly, "the fairy lands could not buy the child from me. His mother was a worshipper of mine."

The fairy queen's eyes grew distant and her voice softer as the memories crept into her mind. "And by night, in the spiced Indian air, she would gossip with me as she sat by my side on the ocean's yellow sands, watching the embarks of the traders on the water. We laughed to see the sails grow big-bellied with the wind which she would gracefully follow—her womb already nurturing my young changeling—and imitate. She would sail upon the land to fetch me trifles and return again—a voyage rich with merchandise."

Oberon took a step away from Titania as he saw the sorrow, pain and anger creep into her eyes, and awaited its arrival in her voice.

"But she, being mortal, died in childbirth. And for _her_ sake I do raise her boy. And for _her_ sake I will not part with him!" Her declaration ended firm, harsh, and absolute; her jeweled eyes hard in resolution, her voice matching their fervor.

Oberon sighed and began to walk back to his attendants. He paused and questioned over his shoulder, "How long do you intend to stay within the woods?"

"Perhaps after Theseus' wedding-day," she answered softly. "If you will join in our dance and moonlight revels, go with us. If not, leave me, and I will spare your grounds."

Oberon took a deep breath. _One more chance for her to give the changeling over willingly._ "Give me that boy, and I will go with you."

Despite bracing himself for her words, Oberon still flinched as Titania's caustic response tore over him. "Not even for your kingdom! Fairies, away! We shall become violent if I stay longer."

Oberon dared not look until he was sure he heard the last of Titania's attendants leave the immediate area. He turned to face the now empty forest behind that was still impressed with Titania's presence. "Go on your way," he whispered, his voice hoarse and choked. "You shall not leave this forest until I have tormented you for this injury."


	3. Chapter 3: Love-in-Idleness

**Hello, readers! Here is the next chapter! I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think!**

**Just a little note, this story and my other one will be on a temporary hiatus until after the first week of February. Why? I'm in my school's musical as well as being head of make-up. My hands will be full trying to put on a successful musical in four weeks that I won't be able to write anything decent for you all! I hope you will wait patiently! If I have time to update something, I will but no promises.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'Labyrinth'. 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' however is public domain.**

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As Oberon's attendants slinked back into the forest where they came from, Robin remained, waiting for any orders. He had heard Oberon's parting words and knew what they entailed. So he waited patiently, watching Oberon stand erect and alone amidst the trees staring off after Titania. Finally, he heard Oberon call out to him.

"My gentle Puck, come here."

Robin quickly obeyed and dashed to Oberon's side. He rested behind him, head bowed: ears waiting instructions, feet waiting to act.

"You remember when I sat upon a cliff and heard a mermaid sing on a dolphin's back, uttering such a harmonious song that the harsh sea grew calm at her voice and stars shot brazenly from the sky to hear her music."

"I remember," he replied in agreement.

"At that very time I saw—but you could not—," Oberon continued, "flying between the moon and the earth, Cupid—all armed. He took aim at a young maiden on the throne in the west and loosed an arrow from his bow: one so strong and true it could have pierced a hundred thousand hearts. But I saw young Cupid's fiery arrow quenched in the chaste beams of the moon. And so, the maiden continued on in her chaste thoughts, free from the burdens of love's thoughts."

The proud man turned around to face Robin to ensure the young spirit heard all that he was about to say. Robin lifted his head and cocked his ear towards Oberon to show his master that he had all his attention.

Oberon smiled and continued, letting the barest hint of excitement enter his voice. "Yet I marked where Cupid's arrow fell."

Robin's eyes flitted to Oberon's, a smirk danced across his lips. He was now fully enwrapped in his master's story and waiting for the next words. He liked the sound of this, it sounded fun. It sounded tricky. It sounded as if Oberon had finally found a torment worth following through.

"It fell upon a little western flower. Before it was milk-white, but now it is purple with love's wound, and maidens call it love-in-idleness. Fetch me that flower."

Robin opened his mouth to ask which one, but Oberon cut him off. "The herb I showed you once: the juice of it on sleeping eye-lids will make man, or woman, madly dote upon the next live creature that it sees."

The young boy's eyes widen as he recalled the small, delicate flower that Oberon had showed him many moons ago. A smile crawled across his face and a giggle of mirth bubbled passed his lips. _This will prove to be most fun!_ Robin attempted to repress some of his mirth as he nodded to Oberon to show he understood the directions. He gave a small bow and began his journey.

Oberon called after him, "Fetch me this herb. And be here again before the leviathan can swim a league."

Robin turned and called over his shoulder as he ran through the forest, his voice reverberated through the trees back to Oberon, "I'll run around the earth in forty minutes."

Oberon smiled as he listened to the retreating sounds of his gentle Puck. "Once I have this juice," he whispered to himself, "I'll watch Titania and when she is asleep, drop the liquor into her eyes. The next thing she looks upon when waking, be it lion, bear or wolf, or bull, on meddling monkey or a busy ape, she shall pursue with the soul of love."

The king felt excitement building in him as he imagined the worst torment his Titania could undergo through his treatment. Quickly, he subdued his excitement and prepared a firm face for his gentle Puck's return. "And before I take this charm from her sight—as I can take it off with another herb—I'll make her render her changeling to me."

Triumph swelled in his breast. He would have his way. His wife would see where she was wrong. She would understand the error of her decision to not hand the changeling over to him on her own terms.

His thoughts were interrupted by harsh footsteps quickly approaching. _Who comes here? _He wondered. _I shall be invisible, and I will overhear their conversation._ Oberon wrapped his cloak around him and melded with a tree as he watched a young man followed by a fairly tall woman.

He watched the play of events before him—the young woman's clear devotion to the man and the man's clear scorn of her for another woman—until the pair left, continuing their journey into the woods. Oberon stepped out of the tree and called quietly after the pathetic girl, "Farewell, nymph. Before he leaves this forest, you shall leave him and he shall seek your love."

Oberon's ears perked as he heard the softer footfalls of his gentle Puck, barely audible in the quiet din of the forest. He turned to spy the young boy quickly approaching. "Do you have the flower? Welcome, wanderer," he called to him.

"Ay," he said, "there it is." He held out is hand. Between two fingers he delicately held the thin, green stem of a flower. The center was the deep purple of twilight and lightened into the light purple of the sunrise out onto the petals.

Oberon eagerly thrust his hand forward, open and waiting. "I pray, give it to me."

Robin handed it over without any hesitation.

The king grasped the weak thing in his fingers, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. In his joy at what he was now able to do, his plot spilled forth from his mouth, uncensored. "I know a bank where the wild thyme is blown, where oxlips and violets grow. It has a canopy cover of luscious foliage with sweet musk-roses and eglantine. There, Titania sometimes spends her night, lulled with dances and delight. And there the snake throws her jeweled skin wide enough to wrap a fairy in. And with the juice of this, I'll paint her eyes and make her full of fantasies of love."

Oberon broke from his revelry to break off a petal from the flower with his strong fingers and handed it to Robin. "Take some of it," he commanded, "and seek through these trees a sweet lady in love with a disdainful youth. Anoint his eyes, but do it when the next thing he spies is the lady. You shall know the man by the garments he has on. Hopefully, he may prove fonder of her than she upon him. Meet me here at the first cock crow."

Robin gave a grin and a small bow as he said, "Fear not, my lord. Your servant shall do so."

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Oberon waited in the shadows as his wife and her fairies silently entered the grove.

"Come, now," Titania whispered in a gentle voice, lovingly wrapping an arm around her fairies nearest her. "Dance a roundel, sing a fairy song. Then you may leave. Some of you go and kill the worms infesting the wilting rose-buds. Some go fight against bats with their leathery wings, so that I may make coats for the small elves. Some of you keep back and keep the noisome owl that nightly wanders the forest and calls to us."

She released her fairies and sat down against a tree, nestling in a crook of the roots. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. "Sing me to sleep now, and then go to you offices and let me rest."

Her fairies eagerly gathered around her, perching in the tree high in the limbs, on the low roots and on the ground near their queen. In unison they opened their mouths and sang out in sweet, bell-like voices:

_You spotted snakes with double tongue,_

_Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;_

_Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong,_

_Come not near our fairy queen._

_Philomel, with melody_

_Sing in our sweet lullaby;_

_Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby:_

_Never harm,_

_Nor spell nor charm,_

_Come our lovely lady nigh;_

_So, good night, with lullaby._

_Weaving spiders, come not here;_

_Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence!_

_Beetles black, approach not near;_

_Worm nor snail, do no offence._

_Philomel, with melody,_

_Sing in our sweet lullaby._

_Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby._

_Never harm_

_Nor spell nor charm_

_Come our lovely lady nigh._

_So good night, with lullaby._

As their voices died on the wind, the fairy who had earlier spoken to Robin, stood amongst the fairies before their sleeping queen and whispered to her fellows. "Now, away! All is well. One," she gestured to a young slip of a fairy hanging from a thin limb, "stand alone as sentinel."

The young fairy gave her elder a curt nod and climbed into a sitting position resting her chin on her palm. The others dashed away soundlessly into the forest, leaving her alone with the queen.

An owl fluttered onto the branch across from the fairy and she pressed a finger to her lips. The large bird ducked its head in recognition and took off into the night with the gentle thud of his wings. Silence fell on the young fairies ears and a sense of ease crept over her. Slowly, she fell asleep above her queen.

The man in the shadows never removed his eyes from the young sentinel. The moment her eyes shut in comfort, he stepped into the grove. He silently stalked up to his wife and knelt down on the ground beside her.

He pulled the flower from his coat and gentle brushed its petals against the sleeping queen's eyes. "What you see when you awake will take you in true-love's vice. For his sake, whether he be a cat or bear or boar with bristled hair, you will love him and languish over his needs."

He stashed the flower back in his coat and gentle drew a finger across her slack jawbone. "That which appears in your eye when you wake will become your dear love. Wake when something vile is near," he hissed into her ear with biting venom.

Her still form began to stretch and shift positions. Standing quickly, Oberon fled the scene before she might wake and discover his presence.

As his presence left the grove, a boisterous crowd of six bumbling fools stumbled in to take his place.


	4. Chapter 4: Fumbling Fools

**Hello, readers! Here's a quick chapter before this story goes on hiatus. I'm focusing on finishing two of my other ones right now as well as the novel I'm working on. Depending on how things go, this will be right back to being written once I finish one of my other fanfics unless my novel consumes my time-which would actually be a good thing. I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'Labyrinth'; 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' however is public domain. **

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Robin's feet softly padded the leaf strewn ground under him as he dashed between the trees back to his master. He had found the youth and done what he had been ordered to do. An irrepressible smile pulled at his lips as he leapt into the air and tumbled onto the ground, quickly rolling back to his feet. Wondering where to look first, he made his way to the glade that Titania frequently rested in.

As he approached, the harsh mumbling of voices struck his ear. The fairy slid to a stop and climbed the closest tree. Jumping between the large branches, he made his way to the out of place voices, his curiosity spiked. Crouching low on the wide branch, he made his way to the glade and peered over the edge. Through the tangled leaves, twigs and branches, his bright eyes spied six men bumbling around, oblivious to the queen sleeping so near.

A tall man with shaggy brown hair, who Robin suspected would be deemed handsome if it wasn't for the dull, lazy look in his eyes, was dancing around the group exclaiming, "Someone should play the part of the Wall. He can have some plaster or clay or limestone or something on him to show the audience he's a wall." Suddenly stopping in the middle of the group, he jumped and let out a cry of joy, his face over animated. He held up two fingers and placed them in front of his lips. "He can hold his fingers in a V-shape like this," his voiced quickly dropped in volume to prove his point as he continued, "and Pyramus and Thisbe can whisper to each other through the crevice."

A sniveling man with glasses perched low on a bulbous nose and receding light hair, clutched several papers tightly to his chest as he stumbled towards the tall man and mumbled, keeping his eyes on the ground, "If we can do that, everything will be alright." Clearing his throat and summoning enough courage to look at his fellows' knees he continued while handing out the papers, "Now sit down everyone, and rehearse your parts."

The tall man's mouth slacked open, but the other thrust a paper in front of his face. "Pyramus, you start." The fool's mouth closed and he took the paper, studying its contents diligently.

"When you have said your lines, go hide in that bush," the sniveling man instructed with little conviction. "Everyone else go there, too, when you're not onstage."

_Who are these country fools strutting around so close to where the fairy queen is sleeping? _Robin thought. _What? Are they about to put on a play?_ he mocked.

A smile twisted his lips as he drew closer to the six figures and settled comfortable over the afore mentioned bush. "I'll watch," he declared resolutely. "And I'll act in it, too, if I see reason to."

Pushing his glasses higher on his nose, the man gestured haphazardly and proclaimed, "Speak, Pyramus. Thisbe, step forward."

A small, slender framed youth with fair hair reluctantly stood up and stepped forward. His brows were drawn tightly together and his lips were set in a firm frown.

The tall man cleared his throat for several long seconds before he fell to his knees before the slender youth, thrust his arms upwards to the heavens and boisterously exclaimed, "Thisbe, flowers with sweet odious smells—"

"'Odors'!" The sniveling man exclaimed harshly, earning the surprised eyes of his fellows and a silent, gleeful laugh of the observing fairy. His own eyes grew wide in astonishment before dipping his head and suggesting quietly, "'odors'."

The tall man nodded, his hair falling across his brow. Turning back to the stoic youth in front of him, he continued, "Odors and smells like your breath, my dearest Thisbe, dear."

Jumping to his feet, the man wrapped his arms around the youth and dragged him into his chest. His eyes were wide as he harshly whispered, "But listen, a voice!" Quickly pulling the stiff youth away from his chest, he nobly promised, "Stay here for a moment, and I soon will appear to you again." With fluttering farewells and several double takes, the man finally found himself behind the desired bush.

Robin cocked a head as his eyes wandered after the retreating man. "I have never seen a stranger Pyramus." A smile curved his lips as a delightfully fun thought struck him. _If he is such an ass, shall I not make him one?_ Quietly, standing up, the mischievous fairy jumped from the tree and darted behind the bush, leaving the rest of the players to their antics.

He came upon the tall man rehearsing his lines with much gusto. Silently laughing at the fun to be had, he rubbed his hands together and created a small, iridescent bubble. He held it lightly on the tips of his fingers before gently blowing it towards the man. With a soft _pop_ it broke against his hair.

Robin threw his hands over his mouth as he stifled the laughter bubbling up inside of his chest as he watched the man's head grow in size, his mouth protruding outwards, his ears stretching upwards and soft, dark hair coating everything from the neck up. His laughter seized in his throat as he heard the sniveling man call out: "Pyramus enters: your cue is past. It's "never tire"."

The man turned around quickly as the youth said, "Oh. As true the truest horse that would never tire."

Robin narrowly avoided being spotted by melding into the tree. The fairy waited until the man had barged through the bush declaring, "If I were handsome, Thisbe, I would still be yours," before he moved away and peered over the bush to watch the rest of the scene play out.

The youth's eyes widened as he hide behind the sniveling man whose mouth gulped like a fish out of water. "Oh—oh—oh monstrous!" the man choked out. "Oh strange! We are haunted. Pray! Run! Help!" the man screeched out as he tossed his papers into the air and ran away, the youth and fellow players close at his heels, leaving the ass standing alone puzzled.

Robin let out a laugh and jumped up, chasing after the retreating figures, chanting, "I'll follow you. I'll lead you about a round. Through bog, bush, brake, brier. Sometimes I'll be a horse, sometimes a hound, a hog, a headless bear, sometimes a fire. And neigh and bark and grunt and roar and burn. Like horse, hound, hog, bear and fire at every turn."

The lonely man scratched an extended ear and mused, "Why do they run away? This is a trick they are playing to make me afraid!"

A wiry man ran back into the glen and quickly stopped as he spotted what stood in front of him. Holding his hands up and backing away slowly, he declared, "Oh Bottom, you have changed! What do I see on you?

"What do you see? You see the ass you are being," he accused his fellow.

The wiry man jumped at his words and ran off whimpering. His form was quickly replaced by the sniveling man who ran by exclaiming, "Bless you, Bottom! Bless you! You have been transformed."

The man crossed his arms and huffed. He shuffled towards the tree and sat down on one of the large roots. "I see their tricks," he grumbled, "it's to make an ass out of me, to frighten me if they can. But I will not move from this place. Let them do what they can.

I shall walk up and down here," he declared proudly as he stood up and pranced around the tree. "And I will sing, and they shall hear that I am not afraid."

Stopping in his tracks, he put his hands on his hips, tilted his head back and let out a long bray and sang, "The ouzel cock so black of hue,/With orange-tawny bill,/The throstle with his note so true,/The wren with little quill."

As he threw himself into his song, he didn't notice the bright eyes that had fluttered open and were gazing lovingly upon him.


End file.
